


Habeas (Carisi) Corpus

by Artemis9Arrow



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: ABDL, Age Play, Baby Carisi, Daddy Barba, Daddy Kink, Diapers, Dom Rafael Barba, Dom/sub Undertones, Drunk Rafael Barba, M/M, Sub Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 01:35:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18982513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis9Arrow/pseuds/Artemis9Arrow
Summary: In an unintended series of events, Manhattan assistant district attorney, Rafael Barba finds that he can no longer contain or deny the urges that he feels for Detective Dominick Carisi. The later of which is coming to terms with his first same-sex attraction. Both struggle to interpret the possibilities of this unexplored territory that is further complicated by objectionable sexual fetish(s) not only for fear of destroying their professional working relationship but ultimately from fear that these feelings are unrequited.





	1. Chapter 1

The air was brisk as Carisi readjusted his grasp on the handle-less cardboard box held only by his left arm, while simultaneously balancing the caffeinated beverages in the other. This normally would not pose too much difficulty for one with such natural length of limbs and honed dexterity; however, the disproportionate size of one particular beverage towered over and dwarfed what others would consider “normal” sized coffees. Making his way up the entrance stairs and through the atrium, the natural soundtrack of the ebb and flow of the city dimmed, practically silenced by the staunch legal visage of the structure. The contrast was always something that Carisi noticed, as it reminded him subtly of the feeling of walking into an open church. Both buildings erected by man, one to pray to God to guide mankind to do good and avoid evil, the other to pray to God that those who chose the latter are held accountable. Carisi was exhausted from the last case, which was a normal thing for him now, but he still made it a point to smile and nod to each familiar face he saw on his way up to see the 16th precinct ADA. 

“The one on the left is for you, Carmen. Chai with cream,” he chirped as he dipped low enough for her to reach the beverage. “How’s he holding up?”

“Well no one had anticipated that outcome, but I’m sure your familiar with his countenance after a loss. Probably why he requested copies of every pertinent file. I wouldn’t be surprised if he combs through everything again to search for a mistake that isn’t really there.”

“I’ll tread carefully then…” he responded smiling sheepishly as he prepared himself to enter the office of Rafael Barba.

On his first few steps ventured, his senses were assaulted by the strong, lingering smell of scotch, heavy with notes of disappointment—this was far from the celebration scotch scent. What was once a large desk, sat a haphazard mausoleum of files, books, and paperwork. Even the smaller cherry wood, round table he would normally occupy had remnants of the last case on it. It was this spot he chose to slide the box onto, focused now on the back of a man currently yelling at some poor soul on the other end of an unwanted phone call. Carisi considered leaving the coffee as well and making a hasty retreat but before doing so, the man before him turned while hanging up.

“Detective.”

“Counselor.”

The awkward silence triggered Carisi’s panic babble mode.

“I uh figured you were gonna be pulling a late shift based on the number of documents you requested so I uh brought you some coffee in case you needed it, but I dunno how well it’ll pair with fine scotch,” he smiled, long fingers tapping idly on the cup in his hand.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Detective. Coffee pairs with literally everything,” he mumbled, reaching greedy hands for the obscenely large cup he knew was intended for him. Sonny couldn’t help but notice how tired Barba looked and the glass shine on his eyes.

With his first drag of the cup, Barba slid into his oversized, leather chair. He made no reference on if Carisi should stay or go, which left the detective in a strange limbo.

“I know that your pissed…”

“Pissed is not nearly the word here, Carisi.”

“We had no way of knowing those witnesses would be flipped like that. Liv had concrete statements out of almost all of them. The second those women sat on the stand and looked at that douchebag Torres, it’s like they were different people. How do you let someone have that kind of power over you?” Carisi trailed on, “How can you let someone hurt you for years. Control you. And when you think you’re ready to stand for your freedom, fold and find compassion for their abuser?”

Barba’s brow creased even more, but when he looked from his cup to the man who brought it to him, he managed to unfurrow it. Carisi was a well-trained, well experienced detective at SVU. That being known, Barba still found it interesting how Carisi managed to find shock and awe in the outcomes of the court itself. How can a man so experienced, still be so naïve in this corrupt system? Just because the detective had a better understanding of the laws and cases involved in the defense, it didn’t compensate for his unwavering belief that good should always triumph over the wicked. 

“It’s power and dominance, Detective,” Barba placed the cup down and motioned for Carisi to sit, “Those women were loyal to their pursuit of freedom, until they had to face the man that had kept them permanently submissive for years. There is a power in relinquishing one’s autonomy to another person. The second they saw Torres; their well-being became bound to his.”

Carisi’s mouth hung open for a second, paused while he tried to control his rambling, “So if you knew the loss was unavoidable, why ask for all of this?” He gestured to the mountains of papers, his parcels included.

“Because knowing the outcome is rigged makes me all the more determined to prove that is wasn’t”. He picked up his cup again and took a long sip. “There had to be something to pin that bastard with. Something to shift the power with. And next time, I do not intend on letting someone like him, assert his dominance over judicial process. He may have shown those women the sovereignty of submission, but his wanton ways should not have swayed the jury—that makes all of this my fault.”

“You’re fault?” Carisi sprang up. “Your argument was faultless. Are you kidding me? After they testified, you couldn’t’ve done anything to change this! And how can there be freedom in submission?! It’s a contradiction! An oxymoron!”

Barba almost smiled. “Sweet, naïve, pure Carisi,” he thought, quietly noting the blue eyes of the other man in the midst of his outburst. Perhaps it was the earlier consumed alcohol and compromised judgement, but oh how Barba wanted to educate the young, wholesome detective. His eyes darkened for a moment. Perhaps a lesson was in order…  
The older man sprang to his feet, throwing his chair backward. The files he held in his non-coffee-dominant hand, he threw down hard onto his desk, sending papers flying in all directions. Carisi was immediately caught off guard by the outburst.

“Get. On. Your. Knees. Now.” The sentence was fluid, but the thunderous sound which erupted, punctuated each word with righteous demand. 

The detective had no chance to respond. He slid from standing to his seat to his knees with no pause. Only when his knees felt the mild pain from the immediate transition did he question why the hell he was kneeling in the ADA’s office and if perhaps he misheard or confused what had transpired. 

Barba placed his mostly empty cup down and further rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt and followed it by loosening the bold knot at the peak of his tie. Carisi was at the edge of his knee caps and contemplated standing up and what kind of joke excuse he would make to explain his actions. But he didn’t move. He didn’t speak. Barba walked around his desk and was now standing in front of the halved detective. Even while on his knees, his height compensated more than most. His head was above the waist of Barba and he looked up to face the man as he approached.

“Carisi. I’m going to touch your face. If you have the desire for me to stop or the wish to leave, you may say so now.”

Sonny’s eyes travelled to the door and back to the ADA.

“I need an affirmative declaration of consent. If you cannot verbally do so, I need you to stand and leave.”

Again, Sonny hesitated, but some force held him there. Something inside his mind sent the signal for his body to respond before his thoughts could catch up and he felt himself nodding. The rapid change in the room’s atmosphere had Carisi hearing the thudding of his own pulse as the blood rushed to his face. 

“Spread your knees, and keep your arms behind your back.” The sound of Barba’s voice was calm and Sonny found himself adjusting his position.

“Stand up. Leave. Slam the door on the way out. Let him know that this isn’t normal,” whispered the left portion of Sonny’s brain.  
“Wait. Stay. See this out. This is different, but there is no evidence that this is bad, yet. Barba is a good man who has done good things for this city. Why would he choose to do bad now? You trust him,” countered his right brain. 

Carisi fought to find his words again, “…Councilor, are you making a mistake…”

“Detective,” His voice purred as his hand lingered closer to the flesh of his face, “If I have made some error, why is it that you are here in my office, on your knees, waiting for me to give you further instruction?”

“I… uh… see, I meant thata….” His mouth hung open as the ADA gently glided his thick but soft fingers from the crown of his brow to the hook of his jaw, a lone thumb resting momentarily on the pillow of Carisi’s bottom lip before disconnecting. In that moment, Carisi knew that he made a mistake by staying. He should have left the box and the coffee on the damn table and snuck out instead of letting himself become snared like this. How long had he worked to set aside those misguided feelings aside that he first experienced when he saw Barba work his magic in the courtroom… or was it when he started allowing him to shadow him for his assignments at Fordham? It didn’t matter…. This was not infatuation… it was just admiration for a role model…a perfectly normal response. Wasn’t it?

Rafael’s heartbeat should have been quickened, but it was not. It was strong, stable, and beating on point without faltering. The norepinephrine was there. He could feel his sympathetic nervous system like fizzling electricity, but the consequences of its activation where so unusually focused. This was not fight or flight—this was the calculated calmness of a predator. Just waiting for its prey to betray its own self-interests and continue further into the trap laid out before it. “I bet those lips taste sweeter with fear…” his mind trailed off.

“Carisi,” the way each syllable sounded on Barba’s tongue forced the detective to swallow hard even while his mouth felt too dry to speak. “Stand up now.”

Sonny’s hands were in fists by his sides, and it did not take but a second for him to find his footing and again right himself to his appropriate height. Now standing taller than the ADA, he had to look down to maintain the eye contact shared with the other man in the room, but oddly he did not feel so tall in this moment. Barba’s presence consumed this space. This was his domain and Sonny occupied a small piece of it not out of right or privilege to do so, but only because Barba had allowed it to occur. Rafael returned to his seat resisting the urge to be smug. Sonny had not moved a muscle and his eyes were focused now on the very spot where the ADA had once been standing.

“That’s the funny thing about true dominance and submission…it’s not based on physical strength or fear. It feeds on trust and the need to feel protected, or guided by the one you trust.”

Embarrassed at the point made with him as an unknowing example, Sonny stared down Barba.

“You know, that is a lovely shade of red you’re wearing, Detective,” smiled Barba.

Confused, Carisi looked at his outfit…there was no red. Fuck. His face.

“I hope I’ve not offended you…” continued Barba.

“no uh, It’s fine. Really, it wasn’t anything, I’m not gay either, so why would I be offended by your…a… sense of humor?” Carisi shook off the feeling and rubbed the back of his neck.

Rafael’s eyes trailed down to a key piece of contradicting evidence on the man, but said nothing of it. “Will you be heading back to the pit? Perhaps, dig up some other demons to slay?”

“Me? No. I, um, going home for dinner with the family. Friday is lasagna night.” Carisi smiled genuinely even if it contradicted the lie. 

“Ah, can’t have you late for lasagna night. Thank you for the coffee… and the company.”

“Yeah, no problem. Councilor.”

“Detective.”

And with that, Carisi managed to slip free. Thankfully, Carmen had left for the evening. “What the hell was that all about…” he forced himself to continue walking towards the exit. Again, the distinct sounds of the city began to swarm his senses as he exited the sanctuary of law. No transition. No genuflection. Walking on the streets surrounded by the smells and sounds and sights only added to the surrealness of the events that had transpired. Barba had him kneeling in his office. And the way he touched his face…

“Get outta the fuckking way!”

Carisi barely registered the honking of the horn or the profanity as he had paused in the crossing of the street. He forced it from his mind and quickened his pace. 

By the time he made it to his modest apartment, Sonny had managed to suppress the events that took place and he was just ready to remove the remnants of this last case from himself. It started with his shoes at the entrance. Gun, badge, wallet went onto the table adjacent of the entrance. Next his tie, followed by his vest and the first few buttons of his shirt. Padding into the kitchen, he opened the fridge, grabbed a beer and popped it open using the edge of the counter. A few sips later and he made his way to the bathroom, sliding his pants off having set the half empty beer on the counter. He caught a glimpse of his tired face in the mirror and found his hand tracing where the hands of the ADA had been not that long ago. Sonny smiled a goofy grin. 

The shower was so wonderfully hot and it made Carisi try and recall the last hot shower he actually had time to enjoy. He never really felt clean with the cold, quick morning showers he took. He needed the intense sterilizing heat to feel satisfied. His pale flesh was warm under the water and reddened both from the temperature and the pressure.

“That is a lovely shade of red you’re wearing, Detective.” 

“Ughhhh the smile on that man,” Carisi pursed his lips tight. He tried to focus on scrubbing his body, but it’s not his fault he couldn’t remember his last release or his last hot shower. He found his long fingers wrapping themselves around the girth of his base, the other hand pressed against the tiles. The water cascaded off the top of his head, and over his face. What started as a long slow pulling became quick, erratic thrusts into his palm while recounting the moments he had spent in the office with Barba. He thought heavily on each word spoken by the well-dressed man. 

“…. The sovereignty of submission…. Get. On. Your. Knees. Now….”

“Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.” Sonny forced his face into the stream of the water with eyes closed tightly shut as he felt the warm, building pressure in his lower abdomen.

“Carisi. I’m going to touch your face.” Sonny opened his eyes wide as his body pressed harder against the hot tiles and his pent-up emotions spilt out, only to be quickly rinsed away by the water. When the euphoria settled back down to a plateau, Sonny tried to ignore the catholic guilt by distracting himself with washing the product out of his hair. He stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel loosely around his hips and made his way to the bedroom. Sliding on lounge pants and an old sweatshirt, Sonny found himself prematurely deteriorating to sleep. He dragged his feet to the balcony door and stepped outside briefly, killing off the last of his beer. Looking down at the traffic below and the breathing of a still very much awake city, he thought again about the case and how nothing else could be done about it now. The guy got away. Justice was not served. The world was not a fair place. They would have to wait for this scumbag to fuck up and get caught again if they were going to do anything about it.

“Fucking double jeopardy…” Sonny went back inside. He turned off all of the lights, save for the dim star lights above the closed shades of the window. At the foot of his bed, he kneeled to pray…only when he felt the familiar pressure on his knees, it was like he was right back with Barba.

“Christ,” he mumbled before realizing the blasphemy, “Ugh. Shit, sorry!”  
He tried hard to get through his prayers without further offensive thoughts. He crawled into the bed, pulled the covers up and over his whole body and pulled all four long limbs into himself. Curled into a tight, warm ball, Sonny pressed the thumb of one hand on his bottom lip. Unconsciously tracing over the area until sleep finally took him.

_____________________________________________________________


	2. Chapter 2

Only one eye peeled open.

“What fresh hell have I made for myself today?” Raphael groaned as he tried to turn over in bed, tangled amongst an over fluffed comforter, the plush sheets, and the same outfit he was wearing the night prior that was in various stages of unsuccessfully being removed. He tries to return to his sleep, but it’s bright…and the window is open… and why hasn’t he just put the damn coffee pot on his night stand already?!

“Joder….” sitting up slowly, he takes a few moments for the room to slow its spinning and he tries to ground himself by planting his feet into the carpet on the side of his bed. 

“Did I die… am I finally in hell?” he squints trying to make out the letters on his phone. “Nope, not today Satan. Only 12 missed calls. If this were hell, the phone would still be ringing…”

It takes more strength for him to stand and stretch out the various chapters of his body, each with distinct aches and cracking noises. Old. So old. He slides his remaining suspender off and continues to strip off what was one of his nicer outfits and tosses them around the general vicinity of his hamper to later be taken to be dry cleaned. In just his boxer briefs, he considers hopping into the shower and almost laughs audibly. The mere thought of doing something before he gets himself right by god is just absurd. He managed to get his body to the kitchen and plants himself in front of the espresso machine. With the click of a switch, the humming of the appliance begins and Barba’s spirit comes a little closer to reattaching itself to the real world once more. While he waits for his caffeinated god to appear, he goes through the built-up texts and voicemails on his phone. Having just about finished, he notices Carisi’s number, and taps to find what is thankfully an unsent message. 

“Qué chingados???!!!!” he nearly throws the phone. “Are you serious? What is wrong with me? I drank a bottle of scotch; did I have a damn stroke as well??” Slowly and over cautiously he deletes the blurry picture of his penis. “What would possess me to be so fucking careless and to Carisi no less!” The name triggered him to relive the events of last night…

“Shit.” His mind immediately went into triage mode. Pulling up his texts, his fingers fumble a quick message. 

“Detective, after considering the events that had transpired in my office yesterday, I feel the need to apologize if I had offended you in any way following the compromising position I put you in. It was an inappropriate use of my authority and if you feel the need to file complaint, I want you to know that you’ll have my full cooperation.”

He pressed ‘send’ and put the phone down. He had to resist the urge to stare at the screen to see if the other man would respond or not. Ten minutes went by. Then twenty. Two macchiatos later and Barba began to come to terms with the damage on what was otherwise a good professional relationship. He would have to talk to Olivia too. 

Then the ellipsis popped up.

“Morning Barba.”

Barba read it out loud as if there was some obvious mistake. He hesitated but proceeded.

“…Good morning, Carisi.”

“Still dissecting the files from last night?”

He felt suspicious, but played along, “People like Torres don’t stop their actions just because they got caught. Now that he has gotten away with it, he will feel empowered by it. When he makes the same mistakes again-which he will- we will be there, ready and waiting.”

“We, huh?”

What was Carisi implying here….

“Yes, we. That is if you still decide you want to pursue law.”

“I don’t see myself taping out anytime soon.”

“Good.”

Taking a moment to contemplate if this was really happening or not, Barba put the phone down again. He understood that Carisi was avoiding acknowledging what happened the night prior, but why? The thought of his bright eyed and goofy smile flashed in his mind for a second… he is altruistic. Maybe he is just extending his normal selflessness to spare the embarrassment of the once respected ADA. It’s possible, but it didn’t feel right. Perhaps he feels intimidated and worries about retaliation affecting his prospects in a law career… no, that felt even less right, and his text already implied his intentions of “not tapping out.” So why try and play this angle, unless… he agrees with some aspect of it. The man said it himself, he isn’t gay, so… Raphael’s mental integration paused. He remembered the detectives state of arousal now when he had said that… ugh why did that thought just fill his stomach with butterflies. Get it together Raphael, moths at the very least, no butterflies. It was the most agreeable explanation and because it gave Raphael a taste of hope, he knew that it consequentially must be the least likely of the afore mentioned options. He couldn’t even savor the flavor of it before being snapped back to reality by the vibrating of his face down phone. He didn’t pause.

“So, about last night...”

There it is. The moths died. His mind started to assemble what would have been his response but again, he was cut off. Typical Carisi. Even when he isn’t here, he’s interrupting me.

“If you want to talk, I think it’s only fair that you treat this time for the coffee.”

Raphael read the line twice. Then thrice. Ok, just play along, keep it light, and see where this goes…

“Well, I’ve already had some coffee this morning, Detective.”

Carisi didn’t hesitate, “With all due respect Counselor, when have you ever passed up an excuse to get your coffee fix on? I could bring you plain hot water, and if it looked remotely brown, you’d drink it.”

He tried to not smile. “Carisi, I’m no Neanderthal. I do not do decaf.”

“Fine, pick your fancy coffee joint and I’ll meet you there in say an hour.”

He couldn’t help but notice, that it wasn’t a question this time or an invitation. He responded with only the address of the café and followed it by clearing his schedule. Why was he excited. This seems like a good thing but he should be nervous to confront this…but he wasn’t. Instead he rushed off to shower the shame off and all further evidence that he was way too drunk last night, and if he were to be honest, still very hung over now. 

The shower was sprinted, but thorough. He gracefully slathered his face with products and crèmes and styled his hair from the lopsided pompadour it was when he awoke. His face need not be shaven thankfully…he needed the extra time as he walked into the lengthy extended closet. 

“Gods Carisi, what were you thinking? An hour is not nearly enough time to properly prepare oneself for a date.” He spoke out loud, but then caught himself. It wasn’t a date. Why did he say that word? Did he want to go on a date with Carisi? Well it’s obvious that the man was physically stunning and he was putting more effort into maintaining his appearance lately with his updated wardrobe, and Jesus, he couldn’t even verbalize how thankful he was when that stache was gone. But Carisi was the polar opposite of Barba in many ways, he was optimistic and cheerful-- All. The. Time. AND he did this thing where he rambles on and on and surely Barba should be annoyed by this, but he oddly felt it endearing. Even in the professional setting, he would be blind to not see how hard the other man constantly tries to contribute to his prosecution work-even with Carisi’s experience differential vs his own and for what? Scraps and crumbs of approval and acceptance from a man who actively treats people rudely. Maybe the man had daddy issues? 

“He’d be a real good boy, if I was his Daddy.”

That single dirty thought popped into his mind and Raphael could swear he heard the audible sounds of expensive fabric stretch under tensile pressure from the speed with which he generated an erection. He looked down to his tented slack and cursed in Spanish.

“No, no, no I don’t have time for you…” He hurriedly continued to get ready. Surprisingly, he only had to change his outfit three times for him to be satisfied with his presentation. Long coat and essentials set, he left his top floor apartment and endured the elevator ride impatiently tapping his foot the entire time. Rounding the corner, he needed to travel only a couple blocks to arrive at his destination. Barba had selected this place for that very purpose, if he had really wanted the best coffee in the area, he would have to forgo the preparation time and the ability to arrive before Carisi did to set his stage. He couldn’t give up the advantage. The detective did well to catch him off guard with the texts and Raphael defended well enough, but it was his turn to step it up and put some form of offense on the map. 

\- - - - -

Carisi stepped out of the cab a block and a half before reaching the address Barba had texted him. He wanted the time to walk and clear his head a little to figure out why he was doing this or what he would even say at this point. He knew that Barba had been drinking, but the man had all of his faculties-he always did. He requested affirmative consent and Sonny gave it willingly, so he wasn’t completely sure why Barba was handling this like one of the cases his tried before. It was strange, but technically no wrong had been done.

Before long, he was standing in front of a small, quaint little café that was snuggly tucked between some antique specialty shops. Barba picked this place? Sonny ducked a little on entering and it was easy to spot the ADA even with a newspaper propped before his stern features. The table set already with steaming hot beverages, pastries, and all the fixings. 

“Mr. Barba.” Carisi greeted the man and pulled out the chair to sit. Barba didn’t bother to put the paper down or make eye contact, but he did acknowledge him with a simple “Detective.” Sonny sat for a moment, uncomfortable. Say something.

“So, I see you took the liberty of picking out my drink too, huh?”

He casually turned the page of his paper, “If what I selected for you offends you, by all means pick anything off the menu. But, I can assure you that this place does not do milkshakes, or whatever it is you and Rollins constantly purchase from Starbucks.”

“Give them a chance, those Frappuccinos ain’t bad and they gots coffee in them too. But I’m sure what you picked is great.” Sonny smiled and pulled his large cup closer to himself. “And for what it’s worth, if I’d know you were going to bribe me with all of this, I would have insisted on dinner instead of coffee.”

Barba put the paper down. “This. Is. Not. A. Bribe.”

Sonny’s hands were up in feigned jest, “Calm down, Counselor! I’m just messing around.” Barba’s stoic face did not untense, but he did push the plate closer to Carisi.

“Oh, fancy picking with the croissants.”

That made Barba smirk a bit. An opening for a jab had appeared, “You of all people should know that those are not croissants.”

“No? well enlighten me Counselor.”

“A cornetto,” he continued after sipping on his latte, “It’s my understanding that they are Italian, not French. If I were to guess, I’d say that one has apricot inside.”

“Ahhh, Italian eh? Then I’m guessing they are even tastier than a croissant!” Sonny ripped the horn in half and bit a piece. He hummed while chewing. Barba uncrossed his legs a bit.  
“This is great,” he said with his face all lit up, “You have to try this.”

Barba shook his head, “I’m fine with just coffee.” Truth be told his stomach was in knots.

“Aw, c’mon Counselor. It’s the weekend and you’re outside of the office. Live a little.” Sonny ripped off a piece of his cornetto and reached across the table.

Barba was not expecting the intimate gesture. He could have easily offered him one of the ones sitting on the plate, but instead Carisi wanted him to have some of his. Typical Carisi. He obliged the detective and took the piece before popping it into his mouth. Ughh, they were delicious here. 

“You picked a great spot, Barba. I am a little disappointed though…”

“And why is that detective?” the man idled with his coffee. Here it comes…

“Well, I was kind hopping to catch you all casual and such since it’s the weekend. But I guess the guys at the station were right about you always dressed to the nines, huh?”

“Well, my casual suits are at the cleaners.” He quipped back.

“No jeans? No sweatpants? A man needs a comfy pair of sweatpants.” He feigned an offended face before he took a sip of his coffee, “Wow, very delicious. You might just convert me to the dark side of your coffee addiction.”

“What can I say? Misery loves company.” 

And just like that, they slipped into casual conversation. A late morning meeting had continued well past midday effortlessly. Carisi went on and on about the happenings of his family and Barba would follow along. He told the detective about some of the places he’s traveled to and the other man was so genuinely interested in everything the ADA had to say. It was relaxed and both men were enjoying themselves. Barba waved his hand up, signaling another round of coffees and the conversations continued. The previous night was not brought up and Barba had nearly forgotten that this was why they were there in the first place. 

A few hours passed and eventually Carisi stood up, albeit reluctantly. “Counselor, I have to say, I had a really great time hanging out with you and I hope we can do it again soon.”

Barba took the cue and began putting his coat on, “I’m frankly shocked at how tolerable you are outside of the office, especially since you haven’t been regurgitating legal lexicon back at me today.” He pulled out his wallet and went to pay the bill. Returning to the table, he left a superfluous tip and tucked the remaining cash in his back pocket rather then pull his wallet out again. He knew Carisi was watching and didn’t want to make a big deal of him paying for their meal.

The two men excited the café and Sonny made sure to hold the door open for the older man. “Can I call you a cab home, Counselor?”

“That won’t be necessary. I live a few blocks from here,” he gestured to the general direction.

“Oh, I wasn’t aware this is where you lived. There is a nice market down this street I think. They make their cheeses fresh on the premises…” Carisi started walking that way while talking. Barba was compelled to follow. 

“I make a killer ravioli with that stuff.” 

“Yeah, I think I’m familiar with that place. There is a take-out place across from it that frequent. I’m not much of a cook.”

Sonny stopped walking, “What? You gotta’ be kidding me. Living in this nice area, surrounded by fresh ingredients. I’d damn near open a restaurant out of my kitchen if I could.”

Barba chuckled and continued walking. He actually laughed. Carisi felt a little flutter but continued walking and easily caught up with the ADA. It was only then that he realized he was walking the man home. He wondered if Barba knew this yet. It became obvious on Barba’s features that he processed what had happened when they stopped in front of his building. Barba struggled trying to think of something to say.

“You going to give me the tour?” Sonny brought him back to earth.

“And why would I do something like that?”

“Well I gotta know if you even have a kitchen up there or not if I’m gonna cook those ravioli for you?” He held the door open again, “You know Rollins didn’t even have colander to strain the pasta with when I stopped by to make her spaghetti one time. Considering how busy you are, I wouldn’t be too shocked if you didn’t even have a stove.”

“That’s the one with the fire buttons, right?”

Carisi laughed out loud and Raphael was taken aback. God, his face was so beautiful when he looked happy. Sonny was just surprised that Barba had a sense of humor that wasn’t strictly dependent on insulting Carisi or others. 

When Barba unlocked the place, he felt his heartbeat quicken a bit. Carisi was inside of his apartment at this very moment.

“Very nice place, Counselor. Should I uh, take my shoes off?” Carisi blushed a bit and looked uncomfortable. Like a little kid in a fine art museum, prone to touching and breaking things. He is a polite boy. Thought the ADA.

“That’s up to you, Detective. The cleaning lady comes on Mondays so she should be able to scrub anything you decide to track in from the streets of Manhattan.”

Barba removed his coat, only to be further distracted by the sound of his phone ringing. “I’m going to take this in the study. You can give yourself the tour of the cooking facilities.”

Sonny smiled and slid his shoes off. He seemed to do a lot of that today. He was happy because Barba had indirectly consented to letting Sonny cook for him. He loved cooking for people, especially friends and family. He wasn’t always the best with using his words, but he never failed with cooking meals for people. 

He began to look around, almost feeling guilty for having this intimate part of Barba exposed for him. Little touches around the place made it clear this was definitely Barba’s place. Case files scattered here and there. A liquor bar in the living room with top shelf scotch in decanters. Expensive looking fabrics draping the curtains and furniture. But then again, there were subtle touches that surprised Carisi. There was a book of poetry on the side table by one of the couches. Pictures of his family lined the mantle of the fireplace. A record player with some vinyl tucked away neatly. Scented candles. Little things that showed Barba to be… human and maybe sentimental. The guilt he felt quickly changed to gratefulness. He felt really lucky to have the opportunity to see these parts of Barba’s life and he assumed that few others were privy to such things. Looking at the unlit fireplace, he wondered how nice it’d feel to be cuddling in front of the warmth of a lit fire. The smell of Barba’s cologne trapped under the blanket wrapped between them on the couch and the feel of….no no no. Why were these thoughts corrupting his mind lately? He knew that he felt attracted to the ADA but was he seriously crushing on his boss like this? He has had plenty of girlfriends and successful relationships that ended platonically, but never has he felt remotely attracted to another man before. The feelings it gave him were never singular; it always felt contaminated with this underlying emotion. It wasn’t disgust- he had no prejudices against love in any form, but he definitely felt some flavor of shame. He didn’t know why, but it always lingered longer than the sweetness of infatuation did. This made it all the more difficult to get a reading on Barba. Was this something that he wanted too?

Sonny found his way to the kitchen and dining space. It was lovely. A nice island in the middle to prep and chop on. A full stove to have four pots or pans going at once. Ample counter space to throw Barba’s writhing body onto so he could ravish him while simultaneously preparing a meal… DAMN IT…Get it together Sonny. 

He could faintly hear Barba arguing on the phone with someone in his office. It gave him the chance to sneak a glimpse of his sleeping quarters. Ohhhhh did Sonny feel naughty for doing this, but he could help himself. It was like being in a celebrity’s home; every mundane thing becomes fascinating even down to whether or not they both wipe their butts with the same brand of loo paper. The room wasn’t prim and tidy like he expected. The linens on the bed were thrown about and he caught a glimpse of the articles of clothing laying on top of a hamper near the walk-in closet—of course Barba has a whole walk-in closet. The clothing looked familiar… he was wearing that last night. Again, Sonny’s mind played over the details of the night. The look in Barba eyes. The sound of his quickened pulse. And even the rush of endorphins he got when he instinctively kneeled when ordered to do so. It was so difficult for Sonny to even process how he himself felt about Barba. These feeling had become too intense to just start ignoring now. What further complicated things was that there was no way he would be able to cohesively communicate those emotions to someone like Barba. He didn’t stand a chance. Wait... He might not need to stand a chance…

Barba paced in his study, rambling off information to the person on the line. Of course, the one day he takes off and the legal world is falling apart. He feels increasingly guilty with each moment, having left Carisi to his own devices. The man was only being polite to walk him home after a nice morning and now here was Barba greedily sucking up the other man’s time-off from work. He could not hang up fast enough and tossed his phone onto his overcrowded desk. He walked into the kitchen- no Carisi. Then into the living room- again no Carisi. Barba supposed he may have been fed up and left or perhaps was called into work… but when he made it to the front door the sight of the taller man’s shoes carefully set aside beside the door gave proof that the man was still here, somewhere. Only one spot left.

“Detective, while I’m sure you’re enjoying the tour, I’ll remind you that you’ll need a warrant if you intend on searching for any…” Barba stopped in his tracks, sentence caught in his throat.

Before him was Carisi. In his bedroom. At the foot of his bed. On his knees… His legs were spread wide, shoulder width apart and his hands were folded behind his back. His face was the color of a rich red wine and there was a subtle tremor to his long slender body-he was nervously shaking but trying so hard to control it. He was presenting himself in the same modus that Barba had him positioned the night prior. It was like someone had severed Raphael’s brainstem. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He felt like the room had become too warm and there was this feeling in his gut—this panic like sensation that he often felt in the rare occasions right before he lost a case. Carisi, who had until this moment had his eyes glued on the floor, made eye contact with the frozen man. The sight of Barba like this terrified Sonny; he had made a terrible mistake and now he couldn’t fix it. How could he explain this? “Sorry I dropped my dignity, I think it rolled under your bed?” It would only piss Barba off more if he verbalized the thought. He had not even considered that Barba could have interpreted this as Sonny making fun of his actions last night to embarrass the man.

In true ADA fashion Raphael Barba composed himself. He closed his previously gapping mouth. Corrected his previously loosened tie. Cleared his throat as if preparing to say something. And then Raphael did something he was not proud of. He turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Then down the hall. Then out his front door. The lock had not yet clicked before Raphael could make out the distinct sound of Carisi calling out his name. 

Carisi could barely handle the overwhelming feeling of regret and dread as it washed over his now collapsing body. On his hands and knees in the bedroom of the Manhattan assistant district attorney, Carisi was furious with himself. He hollered out Barba’s name again before it finally sank in that the man just walked away like Carisi was worthless, and why not? He disrespected a man like Barba by acting selfishly on his reckless emotions for the ADA. Sonny punched the floor and swallowed as much shame as was possible. The rage he felt did not last long and in fact, quickly gave way to sadness. Sonny’s eyes were fixed on the pattern of the expensive looking rug, but the intricate design became blurred and out of focus. He didn’t have the ability to hold back his tears and why would it even matter at this point? The damage was done. Barba was gone. There was no one left to bear witness to his shame and self-loathing. 

\- - - - - - - - - - -


	3. Chapter 3

It was frigid and windy outside, and without a coat on, made Barba shiver even more. His mind was completely blank and he not realized that he was en route to his office until he sat in the cab and automatically mumbled the address. It didn’t take long before his building was clear in sights. He paid the man with just about the last bit of cash in his back pocket giving no further exchange in words and walked up the front stairs, approaching the entrance mentally repeating the question, “What am I doing? What am I doing?” Finally entering his office, he slammed the door shut and drew the blinds on every window. Sitting in his chair, part of him just assumed he would continue work where he left off and that if he ignored every horrible feeling he was experiencing now that Monday would roll around and all would be normal once more. That was until he noticed the damn coffee cup on his desk. It was empty and he turned the cup around to see the word ‘SONNY’ hastily scratched on it in marker as was the method in most to-go coffee chains. He thought about last night. Then about the amazing morning he had. Then he thought last on how easy it was for him to destroy something that should have made him ecstatic. Literally a thing of dreams, just to have that man in his bedroom; but no, it was better than just that. It was Carisi, on his knees--ready to give himself to Raphael? God! He hadn’t even stayed long enough to hear out why the man did what he had done. He left before explaining himself or deciding if it was a blessing or a curse that was kneeling with anticipation in his bedroom. Raphael clenched his hand, crushing the cup he held before throwing it across the room. “Why Raphael?” he screamed out. “Why do you destroy the people around you?!” He slid his arm across his desk, clearing it of most of its contents violently. He slammed his hands on the surface before tucking his burning face into his palms. “Why did I fuck everything up so much?”

\- - - - - - - - - - -

When Sonny was finally able to collect himself, he instantly felt like an intruder. The logic part of his brain insisted this wasn’t so because the man invited him in, but it hardly made sense when the emotional part kept repeating, “He abandoned you, get out of his home.” Sonny wanted to explain himself. To just skip over this like it was a simple misunderstanding. He found his coat and dug into the pockets for his phone. It didn’t take long to find the number. He took a deep breath and hit send. Walking out into the living room, he started pacing anxiously as the connecting tone rang. No answer. Again, he hits send. Again, five tones, before Barba’s professional sounded voicemail message begins. The sound of his voice shook Carisi and he hung up again. His fingers betrayed him by again dialing the number. Unbeknownst to him, the cell phone vibrated violently on the desk just one room away from Carisi with no Barba to present to answer. “FUCK!” he cries out. He couldn’t just leave. What would he do, pretend like nothing happened? No, he would wait. Barba would come back. He had to. He lived here. 

\- - - - - - - - - -

It had been several hours, the passage of which was impossible to ignore given the nagging ticking of the wind up clock on the shelf. Raphael picked his head off the desk and contemplated his options. He could sleep in his office tonight. He had done it before. Looking over at the couch in the corner, the mere thought of the back pain and stiffness from the morning after was enough to eliminate the option. He could move to Cuba without telling anyone. His mother would kill him and if he survived the attempt, surly the Cuban criminals he would be prosecuting could finish the job. There was no easy way out of this… he would have to face Carisi. His hand reluctantly slid into his pocket, but came up empty. He didn’t bring his damned phone. Of course, he left it behind. No phone, no wallet. He pulled the remaining cash from his back pocket. After covering the ride here, he definitely didn’t have enough to get another ride back. Rolling his eyes hard, Raphael gathered what was left of his dignity and began the walk of shame back to his apartment. He would call Carisi. Ask to meet him somewhere. And explain himself. It was time to come clean and apologize. Sonny didn’t deserve this. Ugh now he’s calling him Sonny in his head too…

\- - - - - - - - - -

Sonny had tried keeping a calm head. He tried to digest the feeling of rejection. He had tried sitting at the dining table to wait, but after 20 minutes of tapping fingers and a shaking leg he felt restless. This was starting to feel like a mistake… The day light had started bright and ended dim. Having today end the way it did just contaminated the happiness he had been feeling for the majority of the morning. He just didn’t want to think about it anymore. He moved to the living room and sat on the couch. “Freakin’ things never been used,” he muttered on the bounce of the couch. “No tube in this place either.” He reaches over and grabs what he assumed was a law book from the side table. Of course, it’s the damn poetry book. He slams it back down. He looks over to the bar. The decanters aren’t labeled, so he has no clue what’s inside of them. He reluctantly stands and walks over to them. Pulling the crystal stopper up, Sonny is greeted with one of the many smells he had always associated with Barba---this warm, earth spice, scotch. He was never much of a heavy drinker. He wouldn’t decline if he was with company, but he’d always just been a beer kind of a guy. That wouldn’t stop him tonight. He poured himself some from the smallest decanter, assuming it wasn’t a favorite. Taking a swig, he had nearly spit up when the burn slid down his throat and lungs. A few coughs later and his body acclimated a bit. The burn was a welcomed feeling, a distraction from the other pains he was enduring. Returning to his spot, he grabs what is definitely a law book and pages through it hoping for Barba to return soon while simultaneously wanting to never see the man again.

\- - - - - - - - - -

Barba was cold and pissed off. For leaving his shit at the apartment. For the stunt he pulled in his office the other night. And most of all, for treating Carisi with anything but honesty. The man was like a walking code of ethics and morals and here was Barba acting like Carisi had the ability to be spiteful. If he had just come clean to him as soon as he realized he had some feeling for the man…. Carisi wouldn’t have been mean. He might have made a joke and blushed, but that is how Carisi was about everything. Even if he rejected him, it’d be the politest rejection Raphael ever received. He could even see the man volunteering as a wing-man to help him find good guys at gay bars. That’s just how the guy was and even with the physical attractiveness, the sexiest part of Carisi would always be that one of a kind personality. 

\- - - - - - - - - -

Sonny felt a twinge of guilt pouring out the last of the little decanter into his glass. He wobbly spun his head looking in both directions before tucking it behind the larger decanters with a little giggle. He didn’t much feel the burn when he sipped on his drink now. How many was that again? He combed his fingers through his hair to move the fallen strands from his face. He was feeling inebriated and bored. He wanted to go home, but he didn’t want to be alone there. He let out another laugh. Why did it matter? He was alone here! Shuffling his shoeless feet to the kitchen, he cradled his glass with one hand and opened the fridge with the other. It had been a while since he had brunch with Barba. And out came another laugh. Brunch with Barba sounded like a horrible romcom title. “Probably ends with the guy leaving, huh.” Taking a look in the fridge, there was some wine, coffee creamers and a bunch of take-out containers. “Does this guy never get groceries. He picked through the take out. Why be polite now? He was all in at this point. He grabbed one that didn’t look ancient and popped it in the microwave. “Ugh, so many buttons…” he randomly pressed things until it went on. Peeking through the drawers, he found some utensils before returning to the contents of the microwave. “Hot, hot, hot! Sheesh!” He let the container plop onto the counter. “Hey, Barba… I’m getting Bolognese sauce all over your kitchen! You better come back and ~hiccup~ fix this!” No one answered. It shouldn’t have surprised him, but still it made him sad. The pasta didn’t taste great so he chased it down some more scotch. How long had he been here anyway…He finished off his drink. It felt late at night, even if it wasn’t. Some odd sense of clarity washed over poor Sonny and he tried so hard to swallow this bitter pill- Barba wasn’t coming back tonight. There would be no fixing this or explaining things. Sonny could hardly keep a straight thought and he knew then that the alcohol had both helped and harmed. He felt a dull ache of sadness, but it felt almost scabbed over. That wound would surely open up fresh once more when he woke up the next morning. Now that he knew he couldn’t stay because Barba wasn’t coming back, he would have to figure out a way home, while being inebriated.   
“Ist fiiine. No biggie, huh? No barba, no probllems.” Sonny tried to tidy up any evidence that he was ever there. He fixed the pillows on the couch (knocked them over). Put the unconsumed left overs back into the fridge (the fork was sticking out of it still). He even tried to rinse out the glass he had been drinking out of … which proved a little difficult once the glass was soapy and Sonny’s dexterity a little below par. The thing slid right out of his hand and crashed on the stone bottom of the sink basin. Looking down, the glass was gone. Only innumerable shards of different sizes remained and it took a few seconds for the man to process what just happened. And then the cursing came. His Staten Island vulgarities flowed unrestricted and his accent, uninhibited. It eventually distilled down to, “Why you gotta break everything you fuckin touuch, huh? What is the matter with you nd’ not having your shit together.” He reached his hands down, clumsily grabbing at the shards and tossing them in the bin and this became Sonny’s new low for the evening. His fingertips were a little sliced up and bloody but without thinking, he tucked a finger into his mouth only to be slapped with the taste of soap mixed with blood. He quickly spat into the sink. At this point, he didn’t bother to use curse words. He was pissed off and frustrated and now apparently crying again like a fucking pussy. He just had to get out of that place before he fucking ruined something else he should have never been around. He didn’t think twice, but grabbed his coat and walked out the front door.   
The ride down the elevator made him feel slightly nauseous, but he managed to brace himself by leaning on the rail. Making it to the outdoors felt like a relief. It was cold, but he didn’t put his coat on. The cold felt good on his flushed skin and he hoped it would help his frustrated mind to chill out. He dug his hand into his coat pocket and grabbed at his phone. He had intended on calling for a ride, but instead dialed for Barba. The tone rang a few times before the sound of a calm Barba left instructions on leaving a message and how else he could be contacted. Sonny crushed his eyes closed and endured until the tone to leave a message came. He was still crying but tried to collect himself with a big sniffle and rubbing his face with his free hand.   
“Heyya councilor, I uhh….shit. I mean, I was gonna say that tonight… Fuck.” Sonny took a deep breath and paused.  
“Barba. It’sa Sonny, err I mean its Carisi. I didn’t want this, ok. I mean… shit I mean I did want it. Like badly. I don’t even know why? But I didn’t want it to be like this…” More tears came and he couldn’t help them.  
“Fuck, what am I doin? I’m sorry, ok?! I’m really fucking sorry for doing what I did. And for what I’m doing now. And I wanted to tell you that I won’t do it again. But I was a cunt and you left. And I was gonna say that to you when you came back, but, but, but you didn’t. And I fucked up your stuff and I’ll pay for it ok? I can fix that stuff and I’m not gonna fuck your life up.”   
Sonny felt so nauseous. He took a couple of steps and he felt kind of dizzy too. Out of nowhere, he felt something press up against his body, supporting it. He found himself being turned around and being led back to the building he had exited. Confused, Sonny tried to focus and it was then he recognized the sound of the low rumbling beside him. 

Barba had been down the street when he instantly recognized the silhouette of the man, stumbling out of the building. He rushed over when he saw the lanky man wobble between steps.

“Carisi, what they hell are you doing outside like this?” Barba grabbed the other man’s jacket from his grasp and slung it over the taller man’s hunched shoulders. He saw the blood on his hands and smelled the booze and a horrible feeling filled the pit of his stomach. He grabbed Carisi’s arms and gave him a gentle shake, trying to get some eye contact. “Carisi, what happened?? Tell me! Are you ok?” 

But Sonny was still trying to stop the crying and he didn’t want to look at Barba. He was embarrassed and he hated it. But he was also so relieved that Barba did come back, and he hated that too. When he finally looked at the shorter man, Raphael let out a little gasp, “you are crying Carisi. You’re scaring me now, are you ok?”

Sonny huffed at the man. “M’m fine Mr. councilor Barbas.” He swiped the backs of his hands over his eyes.

“I hate to prove my point so efficiently but, you are crying Carisi and you’re outside with no shoes on, you reek of alcohol and your hand is bloodied” 

Sonny quickly looked at his feet. Just cheeky patterned socks without shoes. “Fuck,” He thought to himself. Raphael didn’t wait for Carisi to respond but ushered him back into the building and back into the elevator up to his floor. Carisi’s body did not enjoy the ride and was feeling more nauseous. Before the reaching their floor, he was already beginning to slump over more and his face looked pale and clammy.

“Hold on Carisi, I’ve got you now, Ok?” Raphael readjusted his grasp on the taller man to gain entrance back into his apartment. He couldn’t help but smirk when he saw the detective’s shoes tucked neatly in the corner by the door and forgotten. His quickly assessed where he should put his new parcel. He guided him to the dining table, kicked a chair out and set the blonde down carefully. 

“Councilor, I shouldn’t be here. I’m sorry. Just call me a cab and I can get out of your hair…”

“Sure, it’ll be great publicity for the ADA to have a half dressed, half sober, half bloodied man stumble out of his apartment at night. How did you even cut yourself like this?” he took the long hands in his own and examined them.

“Well, I didn’t mean to… I broke a glass when I was trying to wash it. I’m sorry. I can pay for it and for the scotch”

“Carisi, I told you the cleaning lady comes on Mondays, are you trying to put her out of business?” he stepped away only to return with a small first aid kit. He looked over to the bar as he walked by and tried to not wince at the sight of the empty $600 bottle, “Well, you have a surprisingly expensive pallet for someone who doesn’t drink scotch…”

Carisi looked crushed, “I’m really sorry Barba, I didn’t

Raphael cut him off, “It’s a compliment. Good to know I can share the good stuff with someone when I acquire new bottles to try.” He started cleaning the small cuts.

“Shhhiiiit, stuff burns.”

“Come now Detective, it seems you can’t handle any type of alcohol tonight.” Smirked Barba. It had been intended as a little quip, however, he noticed the face Carisi made before he stood. 

“I uh… I need to go...” A wave of nausea hit Sonny the moment he stood. He swallowed hard. 

“Carisi, don’t be ridiculous. You’re not in any state to leave. Just sit and we can talk.”

“No, you don’t understand…” Sonny supported himself on the table for a moment, but when he went to move Barba wouldn’t let him pass. 

“Sit down,” I’m not done….” Barba didn’t have a chance to finish when suddenly Carisi sprang up.

“Please Rafael, MOVE!” Sonny pushed passed the now shocked Barba, ran out of the room, and slammed the bathroom door behind him.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	4. Chapter 4

“Carisi, don’t be ridiculous. You’re not in any state to leave. Just sit and we can talk.”

“No, you don’t understand…” Sonny supported himself on the table for a moment, but when he went to move Barba wouldn’t let him pass. 

“Sit down,” I’m not done….” Barba didn’t have a chance to finish when suddenly Carisi sprang up.

“Please Rafael, MOVE!” Sonny pushed passed the now shocked Barba, ran out of the room, and slammed the bathroom door behind him.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

When Sonny opened his eyes, he found himself hunched over on the floor in front of a toilet that was mostly covered in partially digested pasta and sauce. His head flooded with panic. He looked around to find something to clean the mess he had made. The towels looked much to nice, so he grabbed wads of tissue roll and tried to wipe what he could of the mess. To further compound his current state of mortification, the tapping at the door and the vibrations of a voice saying something that ended with “I’m coming in.” Those words alone had Sonny throwing himself back over the bowel, with heavy heaves removing what was hopefully the last of his stomach contents. Barba froze at the sight of it all. He didn’t understand in the least bit why this was happening tonight, but he did know with complete clarity, that Sonny was the last person who deserved this. He was going to fix this. He steeled himself against the sight and smell of vomit in the room and refused to let his body react in such a way. He kneeled beside the vomiting man and put a hand on his back. He could feel how each constriction of a heave racked through the thin toned body. “Take care of him.” Screamed a voice in the back of his mind, “He needs you. No more running.” Barba slid a hand onto Carisi’s forehead, gently pulling the sweaty hair away from his face, and away from the bowl of the toilet. He made small circles on Sonny’s back and tried to say encouraging things, although his lack of certain social skills made this feel incredibly awkward. 

“You’re ok Carisi. Keep breathing. Just get it out and it’ll be over soon.” He reached over and pulled a towel down off the rack the second the loud drive heaves stopped. Carisi had his head resting on his hands, on the toilet and although the vomiting stopped, Barba felt the shaking of the other man’s body. This was different than the weepy Carisi he had seen early where it was just tears and watery eyes. This was a full-on cry, complete with the sounds of Carisi’s lamenting. This sound tore into Barba and all he wanted to do was scoop the frail thing up and hold him and make the tears stop. In between the sobs, Raphael could make out repeated, “I’m sorrys,” “I’m so gross,” and “I’ll fix it”

“Shhh, none of that Carisi. Everything is fine, ok?” he took the towel and ran it over Carisi’s face and helped him to sit back in a more comfortable position. “I’m going to take care of this, is that alright with you?” he was holding his chin in his hand, and prompted the eye contact. He felt Sonny nod a tiny nod, but still “Use your words. I want to hear you give consent so I can clean you up and take care of this situation. If I do anything you’re not comfortable with, I need you to let me know.”

Tears were still leaking from Sonny’s face. He was sniffling a lot and his voice was hoarse and scratchy, “Ok, I trust you.”

All of the heartaches of the evening melted away in Barba’s chest. This pure little statement replaced the ache with a radiating warmth. He was not going to fuck this up. Ok, first up, clean the mess. He wanted to give Carisi his full attention, but no way could he do that with puke everywhere. He made quick work of finding a spray cleaner and toweling up most of the mess. He flushed the last of the evidence and with a lit bathroom candle, the smell became less and less noticeable. He left and returned with a bottle of water, removed the cap and handed it to Carisi, who with his limbs all pulled in, appeared smaller and more vulnerable. Carisi swished some water and rinsed his mouth out. He had vomit on his shirt and some smeared on his pants. A quick shower would be the easy solution, but a bath was physically the more logical choice. He turned the tap onto a nice warm setting and added some of his best soap. Putting the lid on the toilet seat down, he carefully helped Carisi to sit down. Barba got a better look at Carisi’s face. His eyes were still red, but his face had its color back and he looked overall better. 

“How are you feeling? Do you want medicine for your stomach?” Barba used the small talk to detract from the embarrassment of undoing the buttons of Carisi’s shirt.

“Better. But I’m never eating bolognese again…”

Barba stiffened, “Was it the bolognese in my fridge? That takeout is weeks old!”

“I thought you had a cleaning lady?” Carisi made a tear-stained smirk.

“…I asked her to leave my takeout alone after she prematurely cleared my fridge following a particularly long work week. Carisi, I’m so sorry, you definitely got some form of food poisoning.”

“Nah, serves me right for overstaying my welcome.”

The words left his mouth before Barba’s brain could process and filter, “Carisi, you are always welcome in my home.” He tried not to panic. The man was still buzzed, he most likely will forget that detail. Barba rolled the shirt up, tossed it in the corner and then removed Sonny’s socks. 

“Is it ok if I remove your pants now? A quick wash then you can sleep the upcoming hangover off along with whatever bug you caught.”

Carisi didn’t answer and his glassy eyes avoided making any contact. His face had a fiery blush on it now, but he stood and proceeded to unbutton his pants and pull the zipper down before letting his hands fall to his sides. Barba finished the removal of pants and underwear together, helping to balance Sonny and his long limbs. Barba bit his lip hard; hard enough to almost draw blood. Even covered in sweat and vomit, Carisi’s body was an impressive sight. Lean muscles decorated every inch of pale skin and with the maximum amount of self-control, Barba tried to ignore the prominent site of Carisi’s loins. Even when he did have the occasionally fantasy about this man, his own mind was never creative enough to fill in the areas he had not witnessed for himself. This was the first time the complete picture was clear… and it was a damn good picture; however, Barba remained focused and professional. He did take a mental snap to savor later, but for now, he wanted to take care of Carisi--make him feel better not just for the sake of repentance in righting a wrong, but because Carisi deserved to be taken care of.   
“Ok, in you go. Let me know if it’s too hot.”

Sonny had a death grip on the fabric of Barba’s shirt as he stepped into the water and did not release until he was seated. The ADA couldn’t help but smile a bit at the subtle purring noise that came from Carisi as he got in. Maybe it was because the water was the perfect heated temperature the way that Sonny likes it or perhaps it was because the bath was immersing him in the scent of Barba, but either way, Sonny felt relaxed and let his head tilt back, propped on the tiled wall behind.

“Hey, no sleeping yet. There’s no way I can get you back out all on my own.”

Sonny opened his eyes. Barba was carefully dragging a wash cloth down his arms and chest. His face was then gently cleaned and it was as if the horribly embarrassing event of puking in his superior’s home had never happened. Although the more Sonny’s mind cleared, the more he debated which was more mortifying, the puking or the being taken care. He knew the second of the choices at least felt better than the first.   
“I can handle this, don’t worry….” He tried before being “Tsked” at by Barba.

“Ay, Keep that hand out of the water, I have to re-bandage those cuts.”

Carisi obeyed, lifting the hand with the bandaged fingers away from the bubbles. His only saving grace was that he was so exhausted that his body was not reacting to the physical and emotional stimulation it was receiving. Barba was polite enough to avoid contact with his privates and Sonny was grateful because even a misplaced graze would ruin him. Knowing it was ADA Barba touching him there… the thought was almost enough to make his excitement pop out of the water like a re-surfacing submarine. Barba stood and reached to the shower and pulled the removable head from the holder. Sonny only realized he had stopped washing him when he felt Barba’s hand behind his neck.

“Lean forward Carisi, let me get to your back.”

Sonny obliged and assumed the pampering was just about done, until Barba tilted his head back and ran the warm water carefully over his head while avoiding his face. Before he knew what would happen, he let a moan escape his throat as Barba combed his fingers through his hair, forming a thick lather to wash his hair.

“I know your probably a martinet with your hair routine Carisi, but if you don’t mind, I’m gonna skip the whole rinse and repeat bit. You can shower in the morning if it bothers you.”

Sonny opened his eyes, “I’m staying here? I’m feeling a lot better, so uh… you can call me a cab, yeah? Then you don’t gotta worry about me.”

Barba rinsed the product out of Carisi’s hair, “Yeah I could, but I am quite liable for putting you in your current state…”

He paused, unsure if it was wise to be so forthcoming and decided against his normal restraint. 

“Carisi, I had a great time with you this morning and I sincerely regret how my actions influenced the outcome of the evening.” His eyes met with Sonny’s and he did his best to show that these were genuine feelings. 

A grin spread across Carisi’s face, “Well, I’m naked, being bathed by the Manhattan ADA. I didn’t expect that ending, but if you ignore all the embarrassing stuff in the middle, it makes for a good story to tell Rollins.”

Raphael put on a sassed face but mentally tried to not let her name take away from his flame. He would be blind if he didn’t see how close the two partners had become over the years and the parts of him that weren’t in denial realized they may be in some intimate relationship.

“You say a word of this to anyone and I’ll force feed you the rest of that bolognaise.”

“Ah, you win, you win! It’s our secret then. Not like anyone would believe me anyhow,” smirked Carisi.

Standing with a fresh, fluffy towel held open, Barba helped Carisi to get up, “Vamos, bebé ciruela pasa.”

Sonny held a confused face as he was helped up and wrapped in the towel.

“Nothing… I said the bath is done.” Barba lied. It was a slip of the tongue. His mother would tell him that same thing when he was a child and it was time to get out of the bath, “Come on sweet baby prune.” Raphael had no idea what triggered the memory or why he said the endearment to Sonny, knowing he wouldn’t understand.

Standing had made Sonny a bit dizzy and his balance wobbled before Barba held onto him.

“Detective, I hope you’re not trying to get me to carry you around tonight.”

Sonny’s face blushed instantly, “No I think I can handle it just fine. ” Barba sat him on the closed lid of the toilet and dried off his hair with another towel. When he was satisfied, he checked on the damp bandaged fingers of his ward. They would have to be changed, so he removed them and took a look. Only one of the cuts began to bleed again. He left to retrieve the first aid kit from the dining table.

“It’s not that serious, Barba…” Sonny popped the digit into his mouth.

When the older man returned, the sight of a rosy and semi-wet Carisi, suckling on his little fingers had Barba wanting to spoil this boy but the germaphobe in him whipped out the rubbing alcohol from the kit.

Sonny’s eyes went a little wide, “Noo! It’s gonna burn!” he mumbled with the fingers still in his mouth. 

“Shhhh, come now. Be a good boy for me.” Raphael pulled the fingers out of his mouth and swiped over them quickly with the alcohol pads before covering the cuts with a few bandaids. Sonny’s face was lit again with a fiery blush and the new warm sensation in his belly was a welcome feeling compared to the earlier gastric distress he had faced, but one that made him just as nervous. Why did that make him feel good? Was it being called a “good boy” or the fact that Barba was the one telling him? The thought seriously nagged on his brain to the extent, he had hardly realized that he was being ushered back into the bedroom and deposited onto the bed. Carisi was naked…except for the towel… and on Barba’s bed. If being a called a good boy was enough to wake up his alcohol subdued manhood, his current set of conditions was enough to initiate the beginnings of a full-on erection. Barba had gone into his closet to search for night clothing and Sonny was forced to grab himself and strategically place himself between his thighs, removing his hand just in time for Barba’s return. 

“Lucky for you Carisi, you get to know the hidden truth of your well-dressed district attorney…”

“Yeah? And what would that be?”

“I do, in fact, own lounging clothes.” Barba faked a dejected look of shame.

“Whaaat? The one and only Councilor Barba owns comfy pants?” 

“Yes, but now you are contractually obligated to sign a nondisclosure agreement in exchange for your license of wearing them tonight.” Barba helped Sonny into a well-worn T-shirt.

“I promise to never tell a soul.”

“In our line of work, I’ll still need that in writing,” smiled Barba as he helped Carisi stand to remove the towel and attempt to dress him in the pants. 

Sonny had no time to react. The moment his legs were apart and the towel removed, his member in all of its half hard glory became prominently apparent. Barba swallowed a growl and focused on looping both legs into the pants and with a smirk, pulling the waist up and around Carisi’s erection. 

“I’ll get you some water and aspirin for tomorrow’s hangover. You can take the bed tonight.” Barba walked out still smiling.

“No, I couldn’t possibly.” The moment Barba was out of the room, Carisi jammed his dick firmly between his legs to hide the erection that was growing stronger from the embarrassment, all the while still speaking to not give any indication as to his actions, “This is your bed. I can take the couch or the floor. I really don’t want to impose any more than I already have.”

“ Carisi, the couch and the floor are just as much mine as the bed is, so your argument has some serious flaws in it.” He returned and handed over a glass of water and pills, “I insist you take the bed and I won’t hear another word about it, now drink” 

Sonny gulped the water but ignored the pills. He was feeling a lot better and honestly in a few hours he would be good as new. How bad could a scotch hangover be? He had his share of beer and vodka hangovers so, if he felt ok now then surely he would feel even better later. 

“I’m going to shower and then I’ll be on the couch if you need anything, you can call out, ok?” Barba took the empty glass from him.

“Ok, … goodnight councilor and uh… I’m sorry for everything, and thanks.”

Raphael’s face softened into a smile, “It was no trouble at all detective.”

 

\-------- ---------- ---------- ------- -------- --------- ----------- ----------


End file.
